On Sundays She Picked Flowers Quotes

“So many times, Jude felt as though she were merely borrowing her body. Somewhere else was another Jude missing her hands and feet, saddled by an overabundance of emotion, of memory. And here she was, saddled with the body, the eyes and mouth, and bleeding heart, but without the soul to match it.”
― Yah-Yah Scholfield, On Sundays, She Picked Flowers

“Jude could not name the emotion that settled over her. It was blue and yellow at the edges, like a memory of a memory half-remembered, softened with age but made lovelier by nostalgia.”
― Yah-Yah Scholfield, On Sundays, She Picked Flowers

“Jude held with haints, held with beasts and goblins, and now, a shrew in the woods kept secret by trees and herby potions, she held with magic. This was the right source of magic, the genuine kind passed through blood, from ear to ear, from aunties and cousins and grandmothers ageless.”
― Yah-Yah Scholfield, On Sundays, She Picked Flowers

“Jude held with haints, held with beasts and goblins, and now, a shrew in the woods kept secret by trees and herby potions, she held with magic. This was the right source of magic, the genuine kind passed through blood, from ear to ear, from autnies and cousins and grandmothers ageless.”
― Yah-Yah Scholfield, On Sundays, She Picked Flowers

“Jude felt - well, if she were honest with herself, Jude would say she felt akin to the knife she held. It was a simple kitchen knife, one of a set, but it had a honed sharpness that Jude liked and a clean steel blade. The wood fit perfectly into the curve of her hand, and when she used it, it felt like an extension of her arm. When she sharpened it, she was sharpening her own self. Back and forth, back and forth, grinding down on the whetstone until they were both sharp enough to cleave and cut and slice.”
― Yah-Yah Scholfield, On Sundays, She Picked Flowers